


Patience

by jeejaschocolate



Series: Lordly [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Forge Sex, Kink involving the word "lord", M/M, Male Slash, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, sex turning into love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their first time together, Melkor attempts to put Sauron back in his place. Fortunately for him, Sauron knows what he really wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> So, yes, I couldn't resist and decided to turn this into a series. I want to explore the possibility of where their relationship could go. If this starts to drag on, then I will know I have reached a new level in smut writing, the level where you should never go. 
> 
> Here's some more (loving) debauchery!

Melkor paced up and down his chambers. He was lost in deep thought, grumbling to himself. Anger coursed through his form, a frustrated kind of keening resentment, and every now and then his grumbling crescendoed into a growl. The shadows around him twitched in kind, unconsciously summoning an unearthly darkness around the room.  
  
“That arrogant...” Melkor grumbled through gritted teeth. “...Who does he think he is...”  
  
Regrettably for him, Melkor’s anger stemmed from one very direct source. His thoughts were focused on Sauron. Again.  
  
Ever since Sauron had taken him by surprise with a demonstration of dominance, Melkor had become increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of his servant. After all, the Vala would not soon forget how intense their play had been, how much Sauron had discerned about the nature of his desire and how he had fully utilized all the authority inherent to his Maiar spirit to pleasure Melkor beyond anything he could have imagined...  
  
Needless to say, the thoughts drove him to distraction.  
  
Even more infuriating was the fact that Sauron himself had shown no interest in any kind of untoward interaction with his Vala ever since. Much time had passed since then and their relationship had not changed in any way. All their interactions had resumed the normal dynamic. Sauron came to him with plans of battle and strategies with which to overthrow the Noldor, but he made no mention of the time that he had utterly dominated Melkor over the seat of his own throne.  
  
This was not what Melkor had been expecting. He had assumed that Sauron enjoyed the game at least as much as himself and would be eager for another round. The Vala had (on an embarrassing number of occasions, in truth) lain in his chambers idly, believing that Sauron would come to him where he lay. And the authoritative Maia would push him down, shove himself roughly against Melkor’s prone form to prove again the inherent strength within that fiery, well-built figure...  
  
But no. Far from visiting him privately, Sauron had not so much as said one word to him that did not have to do with the mundane goings-on. The Maia was unreadable, as he had ever been, but now it was simply maddening.  
  
As a result, Melkor’s unfulfilled desire had driven him to frustration, resentment, and eventually pure anger. It was unheard of, Sauron being so oblivious to his wants and, even worse, treating Melkor like a fleeting fancy. As if the privilege of being with the dark Vala was something that could be forgone, or perhaps looked upon with disinterest. Such a notion was unthinkable and it hurt Melkor’s pride beyond anything.  
  
Who did Sauron think he was to act this way? So aloof, so arrogant... It just proved that Melkor had been too lenient with him. Now Sauron had begun to think of himself as lordly by some license other than Melkor’s own approval. At this thought, Melkor was angry with himself for giving into the strange fantasy and allowing Sauron to think that he was truly above the Vala somehow...  
  
“No.” He spoke firmly, to no one. He ceased his pacing at last. Gathering his resolution, Melkor pushed any blame away from himself. This was a problem that was entirely to do with Sauron’s delusions of grandeur. Melkor needed only to rectify this lapse.  
  
After all, Angband was his fortress and Sauron was his servant. He would put Sauron back in his place, reminding him who it was that had the authority in this realm, and then the matter would be over. Of course, that was a little regrettable in itself...but no. He could not continue to allow Sauron to lord over him in any way. After this, it would be done.  
  
Abandoning his chambers with an aggravated cry, Melkor rushed through his fortress to look for Sauron. He would confront the Maia now, wherever he was, and settle things. Preferably, it would be in front of an audience, where all could see who was master and then relish the fact that Sauron had fallen in the lord’s esteem.  
  
He looked, but Sauron was not in the usual places, not the court, the strategy rooms, the creature taming grounds, nor even the torture chambers. That meant he was surely in his forges underneath Thangorodrim, no doubt working on some smithing project.  
  
His forges, Melkor scoffed at the thought. The forges were part of Angband and therefore belonged to Melkor only. Indeed they were part of Arda itself, which proved that they were absolutely his. Sauron owned nothing here...  
  
It took a longer time to reach the forges than Melkor remembered, having been away from them basically ever since their creation. The sound of bubbling lava and hissing smoke filled the air, the smell of brimstone heavy like a blanket lain across the wide space. Indeed, there was Sauron, sitting hunched over his workbench while he hammered a bit of metal into some cruel shape. Other than him, the forge was completely empty. This was a place of solitude for Sauron and all the other creatures held that sacred.  
  
But why should Melkor? True enough, there was an aura about the place undeniably of Sauron, as if the forge housed a part of his spirit outside his corporal form. Maybe none of the other creatures would dare to come here...  
  
Even so, Melkor had no reason to respect that. If anything, the anger within him increased at knowing that Sauron had carved out such an unimpeachable spot for himself in the fortress.  
  
“Sauron!” Melkor called to his lieutenant, stomping loudly across the space. “Heed your lord’s presence!”  
  
Immediately Sauron dropped what he was doing and stood to face his lord. It seemed the Maia had been absorbed in the work and had not noticed his Vala’s presence until he announced it. This was also unacceptable.  
  
Seeing that Melkor was angered, Sauron bowed his figure slightly. “My lord,” he said demurely. “It is not often that thou hast graced these forges with thine presence. I was not expecting thee.”  
  
Melkor clicked his tongue. “Don’t make excuses for your behavior, spirit. You have a lot to answer for.”  
  
Sauron paused for a moment. Then he said softly, “Please forgive me if I have been remiss. What displeases thee, my lord?”  
  
Now Melkor felt his anger reach the breaking point. Sauron would go so far as to feign ignorance? The Vala was furious.  
  
“How can you ask that?! You, my right hand in all matters, whom I have given much allowance to do as you like! Far too much! You hold yourself so high and mighty...unbelievable for a mere Maia...” He stopped briefly to take a breath.  
  
Sauron was holding himself completely still, waiting.  
  
“Well, no longer will I give such allowances to you, spirit. I will see to your punishment myself.” Melkor began to smile cruelly, the comfortable knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted safely returned. “But what to do with you... Perhaps I will banish you from this fortress, never to return to your old duties... Or perhaps I will surrender you to Manwë for his judgement on your dark deeds.” He chuckled. “My brother and the rest of them will certainly be much less lenient than I. The cruel hand of Mandos relents to no one....”  
  
At this, Melkor began to fade slightly, thinking of all the things that would be done to Sauron in that case. Was that what he wanted to happen? How would he even go about...  
  
Sauron interrupted his thoughts. His voice was eerily calm, perhaps it was a forced calm because the lieutenant knew that his fate rested precariously in the balance. “My lord. Tell me. What grievance have I committed to deserve such punishment? I exist only to serve--”  
  
“Do not ask that again!!” Did Sauron really expect him to say it? To admit how his Vala’s desire had been scorned so casually? “You...who brought me to this point...”  
  
Hearing that, Sauron turned his gaze upward slowly to stare at Melkor. Seeing how the fire in those eyes looked undaunted, the Vala stopped for a moment. The forge was silent. Sauron ran his eyes up and down Melkor’s form. Suddenly the thick air in that space was unbearably stifling...  
  
“Thou art distressed, Lord Melkor,” Sauron said. His voice was quiet but deep. “Have I caused this?”  
  
Melkor heard the way Sauron sounded affected, where recently he had only been cold. His low voice was caring in a way that Melkor remembered from their last time together, when Sauron had held him close and soothed away some hidden, mortal terror with only a few words... Painfully, Melkor felt some of his resolve crumble.  
  
This spirit was enticing. He would have to concede that.  
  
“Yes, obviously you have distressed me, Sauron...” Melkor said finally, swallowing against something that had caught in his throat. Some...emotion. “And you have forced me to decide on what should be done with you...”  
  
Sauron straightened himself out to stand at his normal height. “What does my lord think should be done?”  
  
Was Sauron challenging him? Melkor wanted to answer decisively, to banish him or whatever immediately so that there was no room for the Maia to question him, but suddenly Melkor found it hard to come up with a response. He could not think clearly, his lingering desire had crept up again and now the only thoughts in his mind were of the last time...when Sauron had held himself so confidently over Melkor, not questioning who held the power then...  
  
“You...” Melkor said weakly. He was thinking of how it felt to lean against that sturdy body, to relinquish the part of him that demanded control.  
  
Time was passing. Melkor realized that he seemed probably much less intimidating than he had hoped. When he risked a glance over at Sauron, he saw that the Maia was smiling.  
  
That smile shocked Melkor out of his thoughts. Such a thing! Sauron was practically grinning at him. There was amusement in that smile, but mostly there was confidence. That same confidence that had haunted Melkor’s thoughts ever since...  
  
“I see what you desire,” Sauron said, the same as Melkor remembered.  
  
Now Sauron began to approach him even though he had not been asked. He was totally at ease, bearing himself with a familiar aura of authority. Melkor had not been ready for it, so he took a few steps backward to keep the distance. But Sauron paid no mind. Eventually Melkor’s back hit against the wall of the forge and he could go no farther. Sauron walked calmly up to him, closing the distance between them until there was but a fraction of a space left separating their forms.  
  
Sauron stared at the Vala relentlessly. Melkor sighed at being in such close proximity, the nagging ache of his desire beginning to consume him again. He could actually feel the heat from the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes. So warm, but so revealing...those eyes saw all, it seemed.  
  
Saying nothing, Sauron brought his hand up and brushed the back of his knuckles against Melkor’s face. The contact was light but possessive, and Melkor’s breath caught as he relished the intimacy of the gesture. It felt like he had craved this for ages.  
  
“You have longed for this,” Sauron confirmed.  
  
Voice lost, Melkor nodded silently. He had no desire to deny this. In fact he was filled with relief that Sauron had finally arrived at the truth.  
  
Smirking, the Maia trailed his hand across the Vala’s face. He ran the tip of his forefinger along the line of Melkor’s lips, a surprisingly tantalizing touch. Melkor felt his lips quiver and so he began to suck on that finger hesitantly, not knowing if Sauron would allow him to do so, but desiring the sensation again all the same.  
  
Sauron pulled his hand away, leaving Melkor to stand breathless and waiting. For a brief moment, the Maia leaned closer to his lord, bringing their faces close enough that Melkor thought his lieutenant would kiss him. He wanted nothing more than to surrender to that touch, one they had not shared yet and something Melkor was honestly curious about...  
  
But then Sauron moved away entirely. He stood in the middle of the room, regarding Melkor with a look of deliberate apathy.  
  
“Disrobe.” Saruon’s tone was flat and matter of fact.  
  
Feeling suddenly cold, bereft of the heat from Sauron’s body, Melkor recognized that he was now ready to do anything his Maia commanded. More than ready, in fact, quite eager. This was what he had desired.  
  
So, he removed his robe and stood naked. He was already very hard and trembling, clearly aroused but much less ashamed this time. Instead, Melkor took much pleasure at the way Sauron’s eyes roamed over his body. He wanted the Maia to be pleased at the sight of him. The thought only aroused him further.  
  
“On your knees.”  
  
Wordlessly, Melkor dropped to his knees. The brimstone felt gravelly and jagged against his body, but this was strangely appropriate and almost welcoming. Remembering the last time, he set his hands on the ground in front of him to rest on all fours, keeping his head down.  
  
“Better.” He heard a slight chuckle in Sauron’s voice, but it was gone in an instant. “So. You have learned to be obedient well enough, but now you must learn patience.”  
  
Melkor twitched at the word. His body ached for contact, any contact, especially the heat he had felt earlier, but Sauron was all the way across the room telling him to be patient...  
  
The Maia continued. “You come into my forge demanding my attention, but that is not the way to earn what I would give you. So now you must wait.”  
  
With a sigh, Sauron turned away and walked to his workbench. He had his back to Melkor, who still knelt on the ground, naked and pining. It was a display of ultimate indifference and the Vala was floored that he would experience such a thing.  
  
“But, my lord...” Melkor began, unsure what to say.  
  
“Silence,” Sauron responded without turning around. “I have work to do.”  
  
Then Melkor heard the sounds of clanging metal and knew that Sauron was indeed back at work. For a moment anger flashed through the Vala at being treated so flippantly, the very thing he had set out to correct, but then the realization of their positions occurred to him. There was Sauron, ever the calm-headed one, assured enough of his own authority that he would challenge Melkor to be patient. As the seconds ticked by and Melkor remained on all fours, the hot smoke from the nearby magma surrounding his form in a strangely alluring way, the Vala found himself growing more and more excited. He could feel his breath becoming ragged, his skin sweating, all in anticipation of the moment when Sauron would turn around and grace him with some attention...  
  
So, Sauron wanted him to be patient. Melkor could withstand such an order, even as his cock began to throb from being swollen so long without gratification. He would show Sauron what he could do.  
  
He waited.  
  
Time seemed to pass in a strange manner, as if the minutes took on a life of their own. Melkor was aware of each sensation that passed over his form, highly sensitized as he was in that moment. The ground was becoming more and more uncomfortable, especially against the burn marks on his hand, but he bore down harder and derived a kind of intense pleasure from the knowledge that Sauron was the one responsible for letting him experience this discomfort.  
  
As time wore on, Melkor eventually lifted his head slightly to stare at his lieutenant as he worked. Even though his back was turned, Melkor could tell that Sauron was scrutinizing the metal in his hands with an eye for each imperfection that could be altered. His hand travelled over the length of the metal, checking for smoothness and durability. From the side, Melkor could see a look of intense concentration on Sauron’s face (all thoughts of the naked Vala in his forge completely forgotten, it seemed).  
  
Yet, a twinge of admiration bubbled up again at the sight. Sauron had always been such an exacting, meticulous creature. It was a quality that made him more than adequate at being a lieutenant, and even more so at being a blacksmith. Even his shapeshifting could be considered a manifestation of his preciseness, the way he assumed forms to such an exact likeness of the original that little distinction could be made between the two. And the ultimate ease with which he did so, as if such attention to detail was the natural order of things...  
  
Sauron was indeed fascinating. In his own way.  
  
Abruptly, Sauron rose and put the metal against another tabletop to cool. He brushed off his workbench so that it was completely clear, even going as far as to run a cloth over the stone to ensure its cleanliness.  
  
For some reason, Melkor found the sight of Sauron’s devotion to the task extremely pleasing, as if he could watch him working for even longer and take joy from that alone.  
  
But what was he thinking? Now his arms were beginning to shake, weak at the elbows from bearing his weight for so long without reprieve, and it was likely his knees were bleeding. He was actually in desperate need of changing his body’s position, not to mention the sorry state of his cock as it had begun to weep without dignity despite the circumstances.  
  
Finally, Sauron approached him. Bringing his head down again, Melkor bit his lip in anticipation, hoping dearly that this time it would be to bring him some relief.  
  
They both stayed as they were for a few more moments. Eventually Sauron broke the silence by saying, “If you desire something from me, then you must ask so that I know what you want.”  
  
Melkor’s body felt alight again with excitement at the fact that Sauron was addressing him at last, but he felt uneasy at the request. Sauron knew what this was, after all...  
  
“You know what I want,” Melkor replied, quietly.  
  
“Ask it.” That was the demand, then.  
  
So Melkor raised his head to look into Sauron’s eyes. The flames there were burning with a kind of intensity that was rare.  
  
“I want your touch, my lord,” Melkor said, the words mirroring what he had said the last time. “The same as before, my body is burning--”  
  
“That is not a request. That is you simply telling me what it is you desire.” Sauron kneeled down now so that his body was closer to Melkor’s. “I want you to ask.”  
  
“My lord...” Melkor began haltingly. “Will you...touch me? Would you give me what you know I desire, what...only you...can give me?”  
  
It was a mediocre request at best, but in all honesty Melkor was not used to asking for anything. He demanded whatever he desired or else he took it by force, but the act of asking was completely foreign. He knew he sounded strange.  
  
Sauron broke out into another smile. “Very well,” he said.  
  
In one rapid movement, Sauron grabbed Melkor under the arms and hoisted him upward, to his feet and then into the air as if the Vala weighed nothing. Then Sauron settled Melkor down onto his workbench, laying him out on his back along the cool stone. Sauron hunched over him, fixing his hands on either side of Melkor’s body so that he could hover over him.  
  
“I am impressed actually,” Sauron said. His voice was quiet now because they were so close. Melkor could feel the fire radiating off of him as well as the warm air of his breath. The sensations made him squirm. “I did not think you would be able to wait that long.”  
  
From where he lay in urgent need, Melkor managed a smile. He was honestly proud of himself, but he would not have admitted the fact that he was just as surprised as Sauron that he had lasted at all.  
  
“Now, stay silent.” With that command, Sauron brought his head down and began laying kisses against Melkor’s neck, brushing his lips calmly along the untouched expanse of his flesh. Melkor could not hold back a sigh, this was not at all like last time, where Sauron had wasted no time in simply taking him...  
  
But this was something else, an unexpected way of deriving pleasure from his physical body. He felt the warmth and wetness of Sauron’s tongue and when it brushed one of his nipples Melkor forgot himself and cried out.  
  
“I said silence,” Sauron replied, voice gruff and demanding.  
  
Melkor closed his mouth and his eyes, attempting to steady himself. It sounded like Sauron would...punish him...if he made another sound. The prospect was both highly arousing and slightly terrifying. So he would not take any chances. And after all this was only brief touching, he could endure this..  
  
Sauron licked and kissed his way down Melkor’s form. Laying on his workbench, Melkor felt like he was being scrutinized like one of Sauron’s metalworks, as Sauron tested all the spots that made his physical body hum with pleasure. Eventually, the Maia arrived at the Vala’s legs. Kissing lightly against his hip, Sauron spread Melkor’s legs wide so that he could run his hands along the insides of his thighs. Such a sensitive area on his body, Melkor found himself biting his lips to keep silent.  
  
Then, Sauron ran his tongue along Melkor’s painfully hard member, licking a soft stripe along the shaft. At that, Melkor had to choke back a moan that almost came out in spite of his best efforts. Never before had anyone given him this and his entire train of thought was narrowed down to that one point of contact...  
  
Without warning Sauron wrapped his mouth around Melkor’s cock, enveloping him in the otherworldly heat of his mouth. Indeed, Sauron’s mouth was like a furnace, hotter even than the forges themselves, and the feeling of being sheathed in that mouth made Melkor sob suddenly.  
  
Sauron pulled away. Realizing what had happened, Melkor lifted his head desperately.  
  
“This is too much for you?” Sauron asked. “Then I will stop.”  
  
“No, please!” Melkor cried, tears springing to his eyes at the thought that Sauron would just leave him there lying on the table, pining away for another time. “Forgive me...”  
  
Sauron’s eyes flashed. “Forgiveness? You would ask that of me?”  
  
After waiting a tense moment, the Maia brought his head down again. “Very well.”  
  
Now Sauron sucked him, forgoing all pretense of gentleness and focusing instead on pleasuring Melkor to the point that the Vala was bucking into his mouth, running his hands along the back of Sauron’s head, moaning with abandon. The silence had lasted as long as it would. Now Melkor was finally able to ride out his pleasure as he had so desperately desired.  
  
Sauron spread Melkor’s legs even wider and brought one finger close enough to brush lightly against his entrance. Just that brief sensation along with the heat from Sauron’s mouth was enough to bring Melkor perilously close to climax. He remembered the feel of Sauron’s length inside of him, and the reminder of it was enough to send him nearly over the edge.  
  
Just as Melkor felt himself beginning to peak, Sauron pulled away completely again. The Vala was left alone, bereft of all touch, right when his body was ready to give itself over entirely...  
  
Shock and confusion settled in before Sauron commanded, “Ask me for what you desire.”  
  
Throwing his head back in frustration, Melkor groaned and strained his body as close as he could to Sauron’s, but still out of reach. He felt his climax escape him in the interim.  
  
“Just ask,” the Maia said, voice low and calm.  
  
“My lord...Sauron...” Melkor said, turning to face his lieutenant now, dropping all pretenses against the weight of the thing that was building between them. “Please...grant me my release...”  
  
Without a word, Sauron brought his head down again to suck and stroke Melkor until his Vala came without restraint, gripping Sauron’s head as he did so. After having been denied for so long, the feeling was very heady and Melkor felt honestly dizzy afterward, as if part of his spiritual force had been drained somehow.  
  
“Was that what you desired, Melkor?” the Maia asked, laying his palm to rest against the Vala’s chest.  
  
His voice was again lost, so Melkor just nodded.  
  
“There. You see? I am a merciful lord and I will grant you whatever you desire. As long as you ask it of me.”  
  
Opening his eyes slightly, Melkor saw that Sauron was looking at him with an intense, unassuming smile. He did not know how to read that expression. Was it...affection?  
  
He closed his eyes again and laid back against the cool stone. Perhaps Sauron was harder to read than he ever thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 at some point? It's possible. Thanks for reading!


End file.
